


A Painful Lesson

by perfect_cadence (Perfect_Cadence)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gladio teaches Noctis a lesson, Ignis has the patience of a saint, Noctis is a brat, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 08:37:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfect_Cadence/pseuds/perfect_cadence
Summary: After watching Noctis hurt Ignis with his bratty behaviour once too often, Gladio resolves to take action.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the following prompt: Let's face it, Noct was the most ungrateful, entitled brat in the world to Ignis during Brotherhood.
> 
> Ignis just puts up with it; it's his job to serve but Gladio is having none of it. He decides it's high time Noct learnt some manners and hauls the prince over his knee. 
> 
> One blistering spankng later, Noct decides maybe he could clean up his apartment a bit. And maybe he could attempt to cook something for Ignis...

Gladio Amicitia is in normal circumstances a laid back guy. Sure, he can be hot headed occasionally and loves nothing more than a good fight, but it takes a lot to really make him angry.

Noctis has succeeded.

Gladio understood better than most that being born to privilege is not an automatic guarantee that your life will be sunshine and roses. He gets that in some respects it’s not easy to be the prince; to be the chosen one with the expectations of the kingdom pressing heavily upon your shoulders. But it’s no excuse for Noct’s recent behaviour; his attitude has been appalling.

He’s been skipping practices left, right and centre in favour of hanging out at the arcade with Prompto, brushing Gladio off when he makes his displeasure known. Given that it’s Gladio’s job to literally put himself between Noctis and harm, he would quite like his prince to take even the merest interest in his own self-defence. The practices, though, he can just about forgive…what has Gladio really incandescent with rage is the way Noctis is treating Ignis.

When Noctis wanted to move into his own apartment, King Regis had agreed only because he thought it would teach his son some valuable independence, improve his focus and discipline without a myriad of palace staff there to cater to his every whim. This was not what has happened though. If anything, Noctis has become even lazier and more entitled, and Ignis – as always – is picking up the slack.

Gladio had been due to meet Ignis for dinner earlier in the week when’d got a text from his closest friend apologising and asking if they could meet later than planned. He’d agreed with no real concern – Ignis was a busy guy after all – but when he’d finally met the advisor two hours after their initial planned time, he was concerned to see how utterly exhausted Ignis looked.

“You ok, Iggy?” he asked at once, drawing out a chair for him. 

Ignis sank into it wearily and took his glasses off to rub his eyes. “My apologies for the delay, Gladio,” he said quietly. “It took me two hours to get Noctis’s apartment clean.”

“Two hours?” Gladio repeated, confused. “What was wrong with it?”

“What _wasn’t_ wrong with it!” replied Ignis vehemently. “It was a disaster zone – the rubbish was overflowing, takeaway cartons everywhere, half the dishes he owns were sitting unwashed in the sink. It was like a tornado had hit it! He’s lost the button on his school blazer too; I’ll have to mend that later.”

“Iggy, you’re not his fucking maid!” Gladio said fiercely. This was the third or fourth time this had happened now and Ignis had enough work to do without picking up all of the prince's domestic arrangements as well.

“I know,” Ignis sighed and Gladio was struck by how unhappy he sounded. “I just…can’t get _anywhere_ with him just now. He ignores pretty much everything I say to him; it’s like he’s going out of his way to be contrary. He won’t read any of the notes I bring him, he ignores everything I say about keeping the apartment clean. I tried to talk about this situation with the empire earlier and he just turned his back on me and lay down to sleep. I’m trying to help him but I just… _I don’t know what to do anymore_.”

“He needs a foot up his bratty ass, that’s what!” said Gladio firmly. He’d never in their entire friendship heard Ignis sound this unsure of himself and it makes him furious. Ignis was already fulfilling the role of advisor, personal secretary, chauffeur and tutor to Noctis – without the slightest shred of gratitude in return. It was ridiculous that he now had to add cleaner and chef to that list. Not to mention the endless attempts he was going through to make that stupid frigging Tenebraen dessert for Noct and never received so much as a thank you for it.

Gladio could cope with the prince’s rudeness to himself, but Ignis was another matter. His friend lived his entire life to serve Noctis; working nigh on twenty hours a day and getting by on endless cups of coffee. His every movement was done with Noctis’s wellbeing in mind. Ignis deserved better than to be treated like a nondescript servant in return.

Gladio resolved to do something about it!


	2. Chapter 2

It’s not long before an opportunity presents itself. Three days later, a stressed looking Ignis drops Noctis off with Gladio for a training session. He can see from their body language that things are tense and Noctis is clearly in a full blown sulk. The prince mutters something to Ignis before he walks away from him. Gladio is too far away to hear what it was but he sees the hurt flash across Ignis’s face for a split second before the advisor hurried schools his features into a neutral expression again.

He’d listened to Ignis make excuses for Noctis the night before, evidently resigned to the fact that being subjected to the prince’s moods was just part of his job, but as far as Gladio is concerned, Noctis has just had his last chance.

The second the door closes behind Ignis, Gladio seizes Noctis by the upper arm and drags him bodily over to one of the benches. Before Noctis has time to register what is going on, Gladio sits down on the bench and tugs his wayward prince down over his knees. It’s not a difficult feat; he’s almost a foot taller than Noctis and has fifty pounds of muscle on the younger teen.

Noctis immediately begins to struggle, roused out of his normal bored indifference. “What are you doing?” he demands. “Let me up! Let me up right now!”

Gladio holds him easily in place, almost amused by the way the prince is kicking his legs in vain. “Oh no you don’t!” he counters firmly, silencing Noctis with a searing swat to his backside. “You and I are going to have a little talk about your god-awful attitude and the bratty way you’re treating people. You’ll get up when I’m done with you, not before!”

Noctis had gone rigid when Gladio had smacked him and he is evidently realising what being in this position is going to entail. He struggles even harder as Gladio easily tugs his sweatpants and briefs down. Baring the kid’s backside serves two purposes – firstly, giving Noctis a much needed dose of humility, but more importantly letting Gladio see what he’s doing. He’s aware of how strong he is and, while he very much intends making sure Noctis can’t sit down comfortably for the rest of the day – he has no desire to bruise him or overdo it.

“You can’t do this!” Noctis is yelling now, voice growing thicker with tears of rage and embarrassment. “I’ll…I’ll tell my dad!”

Gladio smiles coldly. “You want to go tell the king?” he says challengingly. “Good idea! I’ll go with you. I want to hear what your dad says when he realises you’re treating Ignis like he’s some sort of a skivvy because you’re too important to put your own trash in the bin!”

Noctis stills immediately, his bluff called. Gladio is well aware of how Regis will react – Noct will be taken back to live at the palace in disgrace and all his little jaunts with Prompto will be at an end.

“Not so keen now, are we?” Gladio says sharply, raising his right arm. “Didn’t think so. So we’ll settle this between you and me. I’ve had it with your bratty attitude, your rudeness and your entitled behaviour. It stops today!”

With that, he sets to the task of heating Noctis’s backside. He sets a steady pace of sharp, scorching spanks, spreading them out so he’s covering Noctis’s entire behind and not over-focusing on one patch of skin. Noctis remains surly and silent for the first dozen blows before he starts to sob and demand to be let free again.

Gladio ignores the pleas and continues to lecture as he paints the sixteen year old’s backside scarlet. “I know being the prince is no bed of roses,” he tells Noctis over the sound of the prince’s wails. “And with your position, you have a right to a expect a reasonable level of privilege. That does not give you the right to treat people who care about you like rubbish! You’ve been treating Ignis like he’s some sort of scullery maid!”

“Specs hasn’t complained!” Noctis growls defiantly, yelping tearfully as another powerful smack lands home.

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Gladio informs him. “Because he fucking adores you, despite all the shit you give him. But he’s human, Noct, and he’s running himself into the ground for you. Even Ignis can only take so much. A few more months of this and he’s going to have a breakdown or he’s going to give up. Is that what you want? You want to push him away so hard that he’ll eventually resign?”

Noctis goes rigid across his knee. “He…he wouldn’t!” he gasps.

“He’s not a fucking slave, Noctis!” Gladio thunders, increasing his tempo. The prince’s backside is glowing now; he can feel the heat radiating off it, and he wants to draw this lesson to a close. “His entire life has revolved round you. He was taken away from his family, he was worked harder than any kid ever should have been and now he’s doing about four jobs on four hours sleep a night. You think he went through all of that so he could wash your dishes? There’s not another guy in this citadel with a mind like Iggy. You don’t stop taking him for granted, one day you’re going to find he’s gone. He'll find someone who _does_ appreciate him.”

Noctis starts to sob so hard, he’s struggling for breath, genuine terror in his wails. “He can’t leave!” he sobs desperately. “He can’t. Gladio, don’t let him leave me! Please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Just please don’t let him go!”

Gladio stops spanking for a second and gently rubs Noctis’s back. He’s taken no pleasure in scaring the kid; but someone had to make him realise the consequences of his actions. Even though he knows the only way Ignis would leave Noct’s side is in a coffin, it will do Noct no harm to remember that he could if he wished to.

“He’s not going anywhere for now,” he tells the prince, voice a little kinder. “And the only one who can make sure he doesn’t in the future is you. It’s Iggy’s honour and duty, and mine, to serve you Noct. But it’s your duty to be worthy of that service. Don’t lose sight of that when you feel like sulking.”

“I’m sorry!” Noctis sobs again; the threat of losing Ignis having flipped his attitude in an instant. “I’m sorry I’ve been so bad! I’ll be better, I promise!”

“Good,” Gladio reassures him. “Let’s finish this up then. The next time you feel like treating Iggy like a servant instead of your oldest friend, remember what it will earn you!” 

He tips Noct forward, lands six blistering swats on the tender crease between buttocks and thighs and lets the prince sob a moment across his knees, getting his breath back.


	3. Chapter 3

Noctis shrieks as Gladio lands the last half dozen swats across his already scarlet ass and then goes limp across his shield’s knee, sobbing with abandon. Gladio rubs his back gently a moment, then tugs up the briefs and sweatpants that have got tangled around the prince’s ankles in his frenzied kicking.

“Ok Noct,” he says gently, when the sobbing has lessened in urgency. “We’re done now. I’m going to let you up, ok?” He helps the sixteen year old to his feet, fully expecting Noctis to push away or hide his face. He’s not expecting Noctis to practically throw himself into his arms and burst into a new frenzy of sobs.

“M’sorry, Gladio!” Noct promises into his chest, only semi-coherent. “I really am!”

Gladio hugs him close a moment, continuing to rub his back in an attempt to calm him. “I know,” he says quietly. “So let’s see no more of that attitude, huh? You’re a good kid, Noct. I know things haven’t been easy lately, but remember we’re here to help you; not to make your life more difficult.”

It takes several long moments before Noctis’s tears give way to tired hiccups; his eyes red and swollen. He’s unusually tactile, his arms still wrapped around Gladio’s torso; but the older teen is content to hold him there and provide comfort until he’s ready to move.

“Gladio?” Noctis says hesitantly, after a few moments of silence punctuated only by hiccups.

“Yes?”

“Could we…finish earlier today?” Noct asks, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Not because I want to skip practice….I-I can come back tomorrow to make up for it…but I wanna go home and tidy my apartment before Iggy’s meeting finishes. Maybe…maybe I could make him dinner?”

Gladio smiles, a genuine warm smile, for the first time since Noctis came into the room earlier. “I think that’s a good idea,” he tells the prince. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back on my bike, and I’ll text Iggy to let him know where you are.”

OOO

Ignis is surprised to get a text from Gladio announcing he’d finished early with Noctis, wearily hoping the two hadn’t quarrelled again. He heads to the Prince’s apartment just before dinner time, a headache brewing in his temples after a day of long and difficult meetings. He doesn’t really have the energy to deal with Noctis’s attitude tonight; the very thought of it makes tears of exhaustion sting at the corner of his eyes.

He does a double take when he opens the door, dazedly wondering for a moment if he’s come to the wrong apartment. It’s _spotless_. Not a thing out of place, no heaped dishes on the table, no stacks of comic books, no takeaway cartons…just neatness and order. His eyes are drawn to Noctis, standing in the kitchen doorway, looking sheepish and ashamed.

“I…um…I made you dinner,” Noctis says shyly, all his combativeness gone. “It’s not really turned out the way I hoped. I guess I’m not really gonna make a very good cook…but I think it’s edible.”

“You cooked?” Ignis repeats faintly. What in the Six is going on? He follows Noctis through to the kitchen to find the table set for two.

Noctis has made stir fry, sort of. Everything seems a little burnt and the frying pan is going to need a proper clean, but still…Noctis has cooked dinner for him.

Before Ignis can open his mouth to ask what has brought on his sudden change of attitude, Noctis has thrown his arms around him, clutching at him in something akin to desperation.

“I’m so sorry, Iggy!” he cries, his voice trembling. “I’ve been such a horrible brat! I didn’t mean to be so rotten to you. I promise I’ll be better. I won't be so lazy any more. Please don’t leave!”

Ignis hugs him back automatically; a hand coming up to gently stroke Noctis’s hair while Noctis rambles about how frightened he is about losing his father, about the pressure he feels about becoming king and how it has been fuelling his angry attitude of late. He apologises again and again, tears wetting the fabric of Ignis’s waistcoat. The tightness that's been lodged in Ignis's chest for weeks seems to slacken a little.

“Hush now, Noct,” he soothes gently. “It’s all right.”

“Promise you won’t leave,” Noctis begs, losing his composure and clutching at Ignis like a terrified child. “I couldn’t…I know I’ve been horrible…but I couldn’t bear it if you left me. I can't do this without you! Please Iggy!”

“Noctis, I’m not going anywhere,” Ignis promises softly, tightening his arms around his little brother in everything but blood. “I’ll be by your side always, whether you like it or not.”

The stir fry is, technically speaking, not terribly good, but as Ignis eats with Noctis plastered to his side, a shy smile gracing the prince’s face, oddly squirmy in his seat…he thinks it’s the best thing he’s had all week.

 **Ignis [18.56]:** I don’t know what you did Gladio, but thank you.

 **Gladio [18.58]:** Glad to help, Iggy! Remind him he owes me a session tomorrow. I’ll go easy on him though – won’t destroy is ass twice in two days.

Ignis doesn’t ask


End file.
